


Please Don't Go Where I Can't Follow

by 221BSunsetTowers



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo Stories [12]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Carlos Reyes Needs a Hug (9-1-1 Lonestar), Dissociation, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Established Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Fake Character Death, Good Parent Owen Strand, Hurt Carlos Reyes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentioned Michelle Blake (9-1-1 Lone Star), Nobody is Dead, Presumed Dead, TK Strand Needs A Hug, Worried Carlos Reyes (9-1-1 Lone Star), Worried TK Strand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28780632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221BSunsetTowers/pseuds/221BSunsetTowers
Summary: Carlos is missing, kidnapped by a criminal he brought down during an undercover operation, and TK is frantic. When they do find Carlos, they realize he's been shown a faked photograph of a murdered TK, and has completely dissociated. But TK is right there to help bring Carlos back to himself.
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo Stories [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1826659
Comments: 12
Kudos: 187
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Please Don't Go Where I Can't Follow

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt square on my Bad Things Happen Bingo card: Dissociation
> 
> I did research on dissociation before and while writing this piece, but I can't promise my writing is medically accurate. Please know I tried, and I apologize for any inaccuracies. 
> 
> CW: dissociation, some blood and bruising, faked photograph of a character having been murdered, one use of the f word

It had taken three hours and fourteen minutes to find Carlos. 

  
It had taken three hours and fourteen minutes after TK's phone rang, after he was told Carlos had answered what should have been a simple domestic dispute call, and never came back. That the house he had been called to was deserted and had been for years. That the only sign anyone had been there was blood soaked into the rug.

  
Three hours and fourteen minutes and the scent was fading off of Carlos' hoodie, the one TK had plucked from the closet just that morning, smirking at his boyfriend before Carlos had walked over with a laugh and kissed the smirk right off TK's lips. 

  
Any members of the 126 that were off shift had immediately joined the search, paired up with any police officers that weren't already running down leads. TK had wanted to be everywhere at once, out there finding Carlos, at the police station listening to the tips and reports, at their home in case Carlos managed to make it there. 

  
In the end, it was decided for him, his father and Carlos' captain finding a nearby hallway at the police station where TK could pace up and down its length, ringing Carlos' cell phone over and over, closing his eyes and soaking in the sound of his boyfriend through the words of his voicemail. 

  
TK didn't eat, didn't rest, didn't stop moving, the absence of the love of his life like molten lava under his skin, burning and stinging and bringing tears to his eyes, wearing out his strength and hope with every minute it settled and hardened in his veins. The hood of Carlos' sweatshirt was pulled over TK's head, and when it all got to be too much he would turn his face and breathe in, trying to let the rememnants of his boyfriend's scent bring him any sort of comfort. 

  
When the call finally came, it was an officer reporting that he and his partner had spotted Carlos through the window of an abandoned warehouse. From what they could tell, he was tied to a chair, three guys guarding him. And Carlos had looked limp, unmoving, head hanging low, and there was definitely blood.

  
Backup was already running out of the station and to their squad cars, but TK had collapsed to the floor, weeping into Owen's shirt, clutching at him with clenched fists. "We know where he is," Owen murmured soothingly into TK's ear, arms wrapped around his son. "And we're going to go to him, and we'll take it from there, okay?"

  
TK nodded, sniffled, rising from the floor and tucking his trembling hands into the sleeves of Carlos' hoodie. Owen kept an arm around his waist as he led him to the car.

  
***

  
When they reached the warehouse, TK leapt from the car as soon as it had slowed down enough. He had spent the ride running through every world-ending possible scenario in his mind, unable to turn off the terrifying thought that Carlos was dead or dying and their forever had already ended. Owen had had to pull off the road for a moment so TK could fall to his knees in the dirt and retch next to the car, his dad's hand rubbing circles on his back.

  
Now that he was this close to Carlos, TK couldn't stop himself, body magnetized to his boyfriend's orbit, and he was sprinting through the door and dropping to his knees next to the chair, hands fumbling to grab the wrists an officer had just released from the zip ties.

  
Feeling a pulse, too slow but still steady, TK gave himself one shaky exhale of relief before forcing his gaze up to sweep the rest of the scene before him. Carlos' face was bruised, his shirt slashed front and back with what were clearly shallow knife strokes, leaving narrow cuts still trickling blood. 

  
But what was most heartstopping was the look in Carlos' eyes. 

  
It was like there was no one there. Like Carlos' body was an empty shell. TK had seen so many expressions in those beautiful eyes, but never a complete lack of anything.

"Carlos, baby, it's me," TK murmured, gingerly cupping Carlos' face between his trembling hands. "Can you answer me, sweetheart? Let me know what's going on?"

  
Michelle had appeared, but Carlos did not react when she carefully cut off the remaining fabric of his shirt, his arms limp and dropping back to their previous place the minute her hold was released. TK knew Michelle was fighting back tears as she started cleaning and bandaging Carlos' wounds. TK had no power to resist his own sobs, tears streaming down his cheeks as he continued calling to Carlos. 

  
"Please, Carlos, please, please come back to me, please," TK begged through his tears, and at the lack of response again, whipped his head around to the nearest police officer. "What the hell happened? Do you know what's going on?"

  
"We found him like this," the man responded, expression pained as he took in the unresponsive form of his fellow officer. "I don't know, but this guy," he jerked his head at the wide-eyed, terrified, and handcuffed teenager next to him, "says he'll tell us what happened if we put in a good word for him at the station."

  
"Absolutely, anything, please, just tell me what happened, tell me what's going on." TK barely registered he was begging again, this time at a complete and utter stranger. 

  
"My boss knew he'd been involved in an undercover op ," the teenager gestured towards Carlos, "and he wanted to know where exactly in the station his drugs had ended up. The cop wouldn't tell him, even after he beat him up some, got the knife." TK's body flinched involuntarily, tense with anger and heartbreak, and the teen spoke even faster. "Then he showed the cop that photo, and instead of spilling the details he just totally shut down. Then you guys came in."

  
Bending down, the officer picked up the indicated photo from the ground, and let out an involuntary "Fuck". Eyeing TK uneasily, he sighed, handing over the picture. 

  
"Oh god," TK choked out, the picture shaking violently in his hands. He knew it was a photoshop, a damn good one but still fake, of course he did, he was here alive wasn't he, but Carlos couldn't have known. All Carlos would have seen was TK's dead body, bullet hole in his forehead, bullet hole to the heart, blood soaking through that yellow hoodie they both knew so well (and TK couldn't believe they had gone to that level of detail, didn't want to think about how they had found that out, but of course that was the kind of thing that would have immediately convinced Carlos).

  
"Ok, ok I know what's going on," Michelle's shaky voice came from over TK's shoulder."He's having a dissociative episode. He couldn't handle what he was seeing and he...he deconnected. Loss of feelings, depersonalisation, derealisation..." She trailed off, and TK turned his gaze on her, eyes pleading.

  
"How do I fix this, Michelle? How do I get him back?" TK wasn't even sure his words were understandable at this point, he was crying so hard, but Michelle squared her shoulders, biting her lip.

  
"Ok, you should try engaging his senses. Give him something familar to feel, really ground him with your touch, anything that smells like you, talk to him, but TK, I can't...I can't promise, I don't know..." She choked back a sob.

  
TK immediately pulled off the hoodie he was wearing, knowing it now smelled like a mixture of him and Carlos, and threaded Carlos' arms through the sleeves, zipping it up to the very top and pulling the hood up around his boyfriend's face.

  
"Carlos, baby, it's me, it's TK, I'm right here, I love you so much, so so much baby," TK kept up an unending stream of endearments, gaze glued on Carlos' face, and he thought for a second he saw a flash of familarity in his eyes. Grabbing Carlos' hand, TK slid it up under his shirt, pressing his boyfriend's palm skin against skin right over TK's frantically beating heart, then used his other hand to gently cup the back of Carlos' neck, brushing their lips against each other.

  
For a moment, nothing happened.

  
Then TK heard a soft "Ty?" breathed against his lips, and he dared to open his eyes. He gasped as he saw Carlos start to cry, eyes full and familiar, and TK caught him as he collapsed off the chair and onto the floor. 

  
"It's me, baby, I promise, it's me, I'm okay, I'm fine, it's all going to be alright," TK chanted into the crook of Carlos' neck, pressing his promises into his boyfriend's sweat-soaked skin. He clutched Carlos to him as their bodies shook and they sobbed, not even registering the warehouse clearing around them, Michelle pressing a hand to her heart as she tearfully moved outside with her kit at the ready.

  
"That photo," Carlos choked out, and TK shook his head, pulling back just enough so Carlos' could see his face.

  
"They faked it, I'm not hurt, not a scratch, I've just been a wreck over you, sweetheart," TK assured him, and Carlos shot forward, pressing their lips together hard enough that their teeth clinked together, and TK poured every ounce of love inside him into the bruising kiss. With a oh so grateful gasp, Carlos softened, and the kiss did too, mouths meeting again and again, Carlos seeming to settle more and more into his body as TK gently kissed his way across the bruises scattered across Carlos' face.

  
"Hey there Tiger," Carlos finally said, voice stronger, and TK laughed in sheer relief, resting their foreheads together.

  
"Hey there love," TK answered, and he saw a smile begin to turn up the edges of Carlos' lips. "There you are."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, kudos and comments make me so happy! Come say hi on tumblr at 221BSunsetTowers!


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